


Pacific Rim Prompts and Drabbles

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 04:30:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 7,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16442987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: An assortment of prompts and drabbles sent to mytumblr. Brief little snippets and moments. Largely Newmann focused.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: individual notes/tags will be per chapter. Most of these will be fairly in accordance with canon, but if it is an AU it will be noted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wearing each other's clothes

The shirt fits a bit tighter in the stomach than he remembers. He thinks. Newt’s not actually sure with his collection of vintage band t-shirts- some of them he’s worn maybe once to a concert and then shoved back into a closet or a trunk. And yet they’ve followed him everywhere he’s gone. Usually, he wouldn’t even wear his t-shirts for work but today he’s working with some pretty volatile samples and even he has his thresholds for the amount of shirts he can ruin in a short amount of time. (It’s been three this month.)

He’s humming to himself as he gestures fairly wildly with the sample in his hands. This is his zone, elbow deep in some awesome but sort of disgusting kaiju remains, left to his own devices for just a few blessed moments before someone needs him to do something- left entirely to his own pursuits. Newt only looks up briefly when he hears the door open, giving Hermann a small smile as he steps into the lab.

Still in his own world, he resumes his work without missing a beat. It’s hard to imagine anything that could have his attention so fully than this. Well, there’s one thing, but if Newt starts to think of that today he’s never going to actually get a single thing done, least of all given the situation of his lab.

A throat clears behind him and he startles, scrambling to catch the bit of stomach that he’s nearly catapulted into the air.

“Je-sus, Herm,” he exclaims, hastily turning around. “A bit of warning next time. This is a very important specimen.”

“You’ve thrown the other half of it on the floor, Newton, I think it’ll be fine.”

Hermann fixes a look at him and Newt’s torn between the weird instinct to pick a fight and laugh. 

“Can I help you?”

“Your shirt.”

“What about it?” He shoots Hermann a cheeky grin. “Didn’t know you were a fan.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. I’ve been to many Arctic Monkeys concerts during my younger years. In fact, I enjoy them so much, that’s my shirt.”

Newt glances down at his chest, then up to the man across from him, processing this information. The taste in music isn’t surprising, but something as casual as a band t-shirt? But of course it makes sense, lately their clothes have been shoved into the same bureau and he grabbed the first graphic looking top this morning.

“I’m guessing you want me to change it,” Newt answers, putting down his sample and starting to strip off his gloves.

“Before you ruin it, yes.”

Newt reaches for the hem of his shirt, but Hermann puts out a hand to stop him.

“You cannot be shirtless in the lab, Newton.”

“As though that’s the least sanitary thing we’ve done in here.”

“Go change. Please.”

Newt rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t even say I looked cute like this.”

“That always goes without saying, darling.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this was "bed sharing" with clarification that it was about "small bed", the concept of two adults sharing a twin sized bed.

“Maybe we should have asked for two hotel rooms,” Newt admits into the dark. 

They’ve already had this debate, upon first entering the room. Newt insisted at the time that there’s no reason they can’t share the single, twin sized bed and Hermann reminded him that he tends to sleep sprawled across the already small full size bed they share. This somehow turned into a minor fight about how in sharing a bed, size should not truly matter because they should, apparently, sleep romantically entangled in each other’s arms.

Now, though? They’re sweaty and cramped and Hermann’s bony elbow has connected with Newt’s significantly less bony stomach about twice in the past five minutes.

“It seems a bit late for that,” Hermann answers, shifting to his side to make more room. “If you would like your own room, you can go downstairs to ask. You are the one who insisted we share a bed tonight.”

Newt sighs and shifts to turn on the bedside light. He’s not even sure what sort of cheap hotel thinks a room needs only one twin sized bed. Hermann makes a very displeased, very scrunched face as the light filters into the room. It’s very worth turning the light on for this sort of reaction.

“Alright, I’ll go downstairs. But if they give me a room with a bigger bed…”

“I think this hotel was designed specifically to torture its guests, most likely you’ll receive a room with a reclining chair. Lay back down.”

“Oh, changing your tune now?” Newt teases before he switches the light back off.

“Honestly at this point in time, I’m so used to the sound of you snoring when I fall asleep that I’m not sure if I can sleep with you elsewhere.”

“We could do a recording,” he muses as he throws an arm around Hermann’s midsection. If they’re going to share, they’ll have to be as physically close as possible and that’s just fine. Maybe they’ve been approaching this the wrong way. “It’s like how some people sleep and listen to whale sounds. You get to listen to a recording of snoring.”

“I’m afraid that it’s going to be the real thing or nothing at all. I don’t want the snoring without the perk of stealing the blankets from you to keep warm.”

“You’re an old romantic, babe, and I’m gonna cherish that sentiment forever.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caring for each other while ill

Hermann stares down at the bowl of soup in front of him. It’s allegedly a traditional style potato soup, but it looks a bit too lump to be anything of the sort. He supposes there’s nothing in it that will kill him any more effectively than the cold he’s been battling, but that doesn’t mean it’s suddenly become appetizing.

Newt has left the room to fetch some blankets at his very gentle request, and Hermann’s sure something about this will be slightly off as well. He gingerly lifts the spoon to his mouth, hesitating on his first mouthful of the soup.

“Isn’t that soup great?” Newt says, bursting into the room with a stack full of blankets. “It’s my uncle’s recipe, or an old family secret. Always had it when I was feeling unwell growing up.”

The startle causes Hermann to spill some soup down the front of his shirt, but he finds he’s feeling too unwell to do much more than frown down at the inevitable stain on his jumper.

“You must excuse me for the question, but was your uncle’s soup always so lumpy?”

It is impossible, even with a stuffy nose and a desire to not offend, to say the word lumpy without the slightest hint of judgment in his voice.

“Okay, it’s not perfect soup. I had to use a blender not a puree…thing.”

“Ah.” He forces himself to take a few more bites and then pushes the bowl aside. “I haven’t much appetite at the moment. I think I need to rest.”

A look of concern flashes across Newt’s face, but then he’s back seconds later with his usual lively energy, unfolding a blanket he’s just brought into the room.

“I commandeered a bunch of these from people who…probably won’t miss them for a day or two.”

He fusses with the area around the couch where Hermann has taken up residence, clearing up the tray table (knocking down a cup of cold tea) and attempting to drape some blankets over Hermann (nearly suffocating him in the process.) It’s a disaster and honestly Hermann could manage better alone, but he tries his hardest not to complain.

After several minutes of awkward shifting, he’s lying down on the couch and Newt, for whatever reason, has opted to sit on the other hand, with his feet in his lap. There’s no way he will sit still for that long, but the thought of a long nap together certainly has its appeal.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was three separate prompts that I used to tell a story, they are as follows:
> 
> "Look at me -- Just breathe, okay?"  
>  “Don’t Trust Me”  
>  "It's all YOUR fault!"
> 
> This is an Uprising Do Interact bit, so you've been warned

I.

It’s embarrassing, Hermann thinks, once he realizes he’s not still stuck in- in wherever it is his dreams take him. Actually, he’s still not sure he’s back safe in bed, because the darkness can be deceiving. He’s not sure of much, there’s nothing in the darkness but himself and the all encompassing feeling that he’s going to choke on the thing he’s holding deep inside and die there. Alone.

Except he’s not alone. Newt sits up in bed beside him, rubbing his back. It’s been several months of sharing a bed with Newt and Hermann doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. Something dark in the back of his mind tells him he shouldn’t even try. Unprompted, Hermann starts to shake. Newt’s hand stills on his back and his other seeks out the bedside light, fumbling to switch it on and then for his glasses.

“Hey, Herms,” Newt says, reaching for him. “Look at me – Just breathe, okay?” 

Newt guides Hermann by the chin with his callused hand. Hermann feels awkward about even meeting his eyes under the condition, but he does, because this is what Newt is asking of him in the moment and he’s doing his best to make sure he’ll stay.

“It was just a dream,” Newt continues. “You’re here now. In bed with a very good looking and very smart man, which is about the coolest thing I can think of.”

“And where,” Hermann starts, sounding winded despite himself, “exactly is this man? I didn’t think there was any more room in this bed.”

Newt withdraws his hand then and rather pointedly climbs over Hermann to get off the bed (there’s no reason for this other than to tease, Hermann knows, but he allows it.) Hermann takes a few long moments to focus his breathing, to make sure he’s still breathing correctly or at all.

He hates that this is a regular occurrence, that this is his life every few nights. He hates that he’s vulnerable like this in front of someone that he loves. He hates that even when Newt is there, when he looks into his eyes, it doesn’t feel like enough. Newt is not having these dreams. To the best of Hermann’s knowledge, Newt is having the most sound sleep of his life. Every night, they climb into bed together and Newt does not wake once through the night unless prompted. Hermann only has nightmares.

When Newt returns he has a glass of water, which he hands to Hermann before climbing back into the bed.

“You need to do something about these dreams, dude,” Newt states. “A therapist or something, right?”

Hermann knows that Newt’s intention isn’t callousness but it’s hard to explain that there isn’t really a precedent for therapy for the type of trauma he’s feeling after drifting with a kaiju brain. He feels broken for the fact he even feels like this when Newt seems like the same man he’s always been.

“I am aware that this is not a sustainable coping method, Newton.” Hermann refuses to look at him yet again, mostly so the hurt in his eyes does not show. 

“Hey, I’m always going to be here, you know that.”

Newt leans forward and kisses him softly. At least he doesn’t have to meet his eyes for this. When they kiss, he can almost bring himself to believe that Newt’s not going to leave him in the darkness.

 

II.

The words haunt him these days. 

“Don’t trust me,” Newt utters into the dark of his room.

Hermann turns to face him, confused by the abrupt outburst. They were both trying to sleep after a very long day of packing boxes. There is no formal arrangement between them, Hermann knows, but he remains confident that once Newt was settles into his new job at Shao industries, he’ll ask Hermann to follow him.

Until then, he's determined to stay exactly where he is.

“What did you say, sweetest?” Hermann asks. He’d heard the words but they seem out of place.

“Hmm? I didn’t say anything,” Newt answers, looking over at him.

“I was certain you had.” Hermann turn bsack, laying on his back. “Oh, well. Tomorrow is a very busy day, so we should try to sleep.”

“I was trying to sleep, until you insisted on talking to me.” Newt rolls over onto his side. He hsdn’t been particularly distant, that’s not exactly how Hermann would describe it, but the past several weeks have left him a bit brusque. Hermann assumes it is stress over the move, out of the cramped room he’s lived in for over five years. Starting a job, as Newt had slipped and called it once a “real” job, as though their work for the PPDC all these years meant nothing.

“I love you,” he says and waits for an answer. There iasn’t one, but he can bring himself to hope that Newt had fallen asleep already.

The three words flash through his head again, and in the back of his mind for years to come. It takes a decade to realize they’re a cry for help more than a warning.

By then, it’s too late.

 

III. 

The grin that spreads across Not Newt’s face is manic, maddening and mad. There’s something about it that’s horrifically not human, which makes sense because that is what it truly is. Hermann has to use creative liberties to see the man he once knew in the person before him, but they were liberties he was willing to take. For Newt.

“It’s all YOUR fault!” Newt-Not Newt exclaims, with a wild glee. “Or he thinks it is. We’ve let him think it is.”

“I don’t see how it could be my fault.”

“He said as much, in his little recording, didn’t he? You drove him to that.”

Hermann’s stomach sinks but he remains remarkably impassive, as he’s trained himself to do. They’d fought about the recording, when Hermann found it as they packed up the lab. It was unprofessional and a bit cruel. It was just a small spat, though, ended with the promise of Newt handling his awful experiments more maturely moving forward. It ended with a kiss, as all their fights did during that far too brief blissful period.

“I know him well enough to know that he would have done that regardless,” Hermann states drily. He rests both of his hands on his cane, firmly pivoted in the direction of his adversary. “You are trying to make me angry and it won’t work.”

“You knew him,” Not-Newt corrects. “Even if there was enough of him knocking about these days, you haven’t had a real conversation with him in a decade. We’ve made sure of that.”

“I know him, better than anyone else. Because I’ve been in his head, just like you, but everything else he’s shared willingly,” Hermann explains.

Not-Newt laughs at this, it’s a tinny and dark laugh, something that Hermann does not think human lungs can produce. That’s a new horrifying thought, that Newt’s biology has somehow become something completely new, completely foreign to him.

“It doesn’t matter how he’s given us the information, just that he’s done it,” Not-Newt explains. “You humans are all so sentimental. As though sharing bodily fluids or childhood experiences with someone makes their life more meaningful to you.”

The blush that threatens to creep on Hermann’s cheeks is difficult to quell. For the first time he’s realized just how much of a first row seat the Precursors have had to Newt’s life. Even that early on. The entirety of their brief life together has been tainted in some way. He knows, from the drift, that Newt did love him. Does love him. But he’s not sure if anything about their relationship wasn’t a contrivance to hurt him. And he is. Hurt. But he stands tall.

“I believe it’s your fault for underestimating the human spirit,” Hermann says. “And I will get my friend back.”

 

IV.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Newt says, clinging to him with whatever muscle mass he has left. It's been months since he was captured, a lifetime since he was Newt.

Hermann runs a hand along his back, soothing, calming. "Darling, there's nothing to be sorry about, it wasn't you, you'd tried to warn me-"

"I left you. I left you all alone when I promised I'd stay."

"You did," Hermann states, even as he drops a kiss to Newt's sweaty forehead. "There's no use denying that you did. But you came back, I always knew you would come back for me."

"It's too late, isn't it?" 

He can feel the wetness of tears soak through his shirt but no. This is not the truth.

"Late, maybe, but not too late. I waited patiently for you."

That has to be enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of them comes to buy an engagement ring when the other is already there picking one out.

Hermann’s been doing his research online, trying to find the perfect ring. Everything seems to fall short, or he doesn’t understand what makes each ring so special. Honestly, if he has to go through one more website to research ethically sourced diamonds he thinks he’ll have to call off his entire relationship. Ethically sourced diamonds are fantastic, but he doesn’t even want to buy something with a diamond.

What he wants is a simple band, something that can be worn alongside a wedding ring or instead of a wedding ring or as a wedding ring. So he finds himself staring at the window in the jewelry store, half afraid to step in. It’s not commitment itself, no. He’s been committed for several years now, it’s getting the formalities correct. Hermann considers himself a romantic man, but that doesn’t mean he’s good at romance. He half expects himself to bring it up one night over dinner and forget about a proper proposal. Love is, after all, as much about the daily and the practical as the grand gestures.

He hesitates for a moment, his eye catching on a beautiful rose gold band in the window. It’s wide but not too wide, definitely delicate for a men’s ring, but Hermann’s never been one to care about arbitrary gender norms. He wonders for a moment if it would be egotistical or presumptive to buy a ring for himself, just for something to wear. Would he be that obnoxious person? Shoving his ring in other people’s face just to show off his joy at being engaged? Newt will be that person, if things go according to plan, he knows this with confidence. He knows this with pride and no small amount of personal ego.

When he steps in, a woman greets him with a far too chipper voice. It’s like she knows that he’s going to be dropping several thousand dollars today and that he could easily be convinced into spending more.

“How can I help you, sir?” the woman behind the counter asks.

“I’m looking for a- an engagement ring. For my partner. Nothing with a diamond, something simple and practical. He’s in a lab most of the day so nothing flashy.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can help you find just the right thing.”

“Thank you.” He squints to read the woman’s name tag before he reaches for his glasses, slipping them onto his face. “Helen.”

Helen guides him around the counter until he nearly bumps into another person at the same section.

“Hey dude, watch it!” the person answers in a far too familiar voice. “Hermann?”

Despite the fact that he’s firmly on his feet, Hermann nearly trips over his feet.

“Newton?” His eyes must be bulging out of his head. “What are you doing here?”

“I was uh-” Newt rubs the back of his head as though he’s looking for the right thing to say. “I think you can kinda guess, you’re a smart guy. What are you doing here?”

“I suppose the exact same thing. So that’s a surprise ruined for each of us, in this situation.”

“Still a good thing, right?”

“Yes, a very good thing.” Hermann smiles at him. “And we’ll know for certain we’re buying the correct sizes.”

“We can just make a competition of it, which of us actually gets around to popping the question first.”

Hermann smiles when he looks down at Newt’s hands, notices that he’s been toying with an elegant rose gold ring.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermann has to get ready for work but Newt is sabotaging him.

Newt has waylaid him every step of the way this morning. It’s not as though Hermann wants to wake up early for his appointment, but he had to reschedule pointedly because they’re going out for dinner tonight. The sun is barely out and he’s in a miserable mood when his alarm goes off. Newt’s asking him within moments to stay asleep for the rest of the morning, but Hermann insists he has to go to physical therapy before work.

In response, Newt wraps an arm around him and moves in closer. “I’ve got some physical therapy for you between my legs, babe.”

Hermann snorts at the absurdity of the statement and reluctantly pushes Newt away to sit up in bed. If he doesn’t go, he won’t be able to do much of anything Newt’s insinuating he wants to do in the upcoming days. They both know this very well. Newt, when he’s very tired and amorous, doesn’t always see sense.

The first step in Hermann’s morning is the bathroom to relieve himself and then to go through his quick morning routine. It’s simple, some lotion for his face and hands, brushing his teeth, mouthwash, deodorant and done. When he steps out of the bathroom, Newt’s fully away, sitting on top of the covers in the nude.

“What are you doing, Newton?” Hermann asks, then steps to his drawers, where he’s set out his clothes for the day. Except they’re gone. “Newton.”

“Hmm?” Newt hums, batting his eyes innocently.

“I have other clothes, you know.” Hermann attempts to open his top drawer, but it won’t budge immediately. He has to pull hard for it to open completely, and something flies loose.

“Hermann, babe. Baby. Honey. Sugar, it’s six in the morning, come back to bed.”

“You do realize that six is not early for most normal adults, correct?” Hermann turns back to face him once he’s acquired fresh clothing.

“We’re not normal, though.”

“Maybe not, but I have a place to be soon and you stealing my outfit is a dirty trick.”

“I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you?” Newt all but leaps out of the bed, striding over to Hermann. “I can help you get dressed.”

Hermann grumbles something, but lets Newt assist. It’s easier to give him some small victory so he stops trying to get him to stay home. Newt does help with the dressing, but his hands have the same level of odd tenderness that they do when undressing him. It’s obvious this is the intention, the way his hands slip beneath the sweater as Hermann slips into it, the way he definitely brushes his hand down Hermann’s ass to make sure his trousers are hanging correctly.

“You should go back to sleep,” Hermann says softly. “And then I’ll see you after work, before we leave to go out.”

“We can probably just stay in tonight.”

“No.” Hermann leans in to press a kiss to Newt’s petulant mouth as it’s already shaping into something like a pout. “You’re the one who insisted we go to this restaurant for our anniversary and the reservations took several weeks. I refuse to miss.”

“But-”

He kisses him again, a bit harder this time. Sure, he can’t be very late, but a few minutes won’t hurt.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about Hermann orders champagne and is horrified Newt just downs it. That's nothing new. But this time it turns out Newt swallowed the ring he was about to be proposed to with.

This has been planned for a few days, the proposal. Hermann has to admit it’s a bit cliche, but he’s run out of ideas and he’s become tired of not being engaged, so he’s going for it. Just throwing himself into the idea, hoping Newt appreciates it for what it’s worth.

When the waiter puts down their champagne glasses, he winks at Hermann and Hermann tries not to roll his eyes. He’s at the very least put the correct glass by Newt, which shows that he’s not completely incompetent, despite the winking bit. Hermann’s a bit distracted by staring at the glass to notice that the waiter’s popped the bottle, and he startles, looking from the waiter to Newt, who laughs at him.

“You alright there, dude? It’s champagne, it always makes those noises,” Newt says, taking his glass once it’s been poured. He lifts it to his mouth, then thinks the better of it, waiting until Hermann has his. They clink their glasses together.

“To us,” Hermann says fondly.

“To us,” Newt repeats and he brings his glass to his lips and drinks. And drinks. And drinks.

Hermann’s eyes go startlingly wide and he gapes at Newt, who starts to cough.

“Did you just drink all of that?”

“Yeah, fuck. I think I’m choking a bit.” Newt continues to cough, a bit harder, but what’s almost worse is the moment when it settles and the coughing is done.

“Newton, I-”

“Listen, it’s been a long day, I’ll drink the next glass more slowly.”

“Newton, that glass had a very important ring in it.”

“It what now?” Newt sputters, as though he’s choking all over again. “You can’t just put an engagement ring in something to propose to me! I’m a human vacuum!”

“I’d assumed you wouldn’t gulp an entire glass of champagne down like a fish!”

“Sorry, okay?” Newt looks around sheepishly, realizing they’ve made a bit of a scene. “I suppose now’s now the time to tell you that I’m definitely gonna say yes, right?”

“No, now’s actually the perfect time.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt for Sugar Baby Hermann, an AU created by a lovely friend and myself! It's all about Hermann getting spoiled babey

He eyes the lipstick skeptically. It’s pink, it’s glittery. When they were in the shop, Newt had smiled at him, told him he thought it would look very pretty on. Hermann agreed wholeheartedly and Newt bought it without a second thought. (Newt bought many things without a second thought these days, even more than he used to.)

Now Hermann stares in the bathroom mirror, leaning forward to examine his face. He’s been experimenting with his looks, something that time and money have allowed him to do. There’s already a thin line of eyeliner on his lower lid, accentuating his fuller lashes, making his face look at once harsher and softer.

The lipstick glides on smoothly, despite the glitter. The color isn’t a drastic change from the natural pink of his lips, but the glitter adds something new, some glamour. Glamour Hermann’s not exactly accustomed to yet but growing oddly fond of. This is the smallest token of appreciation, not something to add beauty but to accentuate the parts of him that Newt already admires, that he himself already likes about himself.

He wraps his robe tighter around himself. This one is sheer, black. He picked this out pointedly, most everything he picks out is a traditional, dark color. Gaudiness is not something Hermann will condone in any context. He’s wearing nothing else, there’s no need for it when he’s home alone for a few hours. It’s more comfortable like this, anyway, and Newt certainly wouldn’t mind if he was home.

Objectively, it’s not an unappealing look. The lipstick makes his thin mouth look ever so slightly fuller without changing his face. He loves the way the black looks in contrast with his pale skin, among his many flaws Hermann’s always felt a bit translucent, pale and oddly unappealing. Now he feels attractive in his skin, like he knows how to dress for every part of him.

“It’s a good look,” Newt says from the doorway and Hermann startles. He’s home early today.

Hermann fights the urge to roll his eyes. Newt’s already shed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, already slipped out of the things he’s become into the man he’s always been.

“Doesn’t make me look a bit like a tart?”

“A little, but that’s why I dig it, babe.”

Newt strides over, slides an arm around Hermann’s waist and presses his face against his shoulder. It’s as though he can feel the stress of the day leave Newt’s body, seep out of him and become a different sort of energy altogether.

“I like it too,” Hermann says, laying a hand over Newt’s. They’re wearing matching red nail polish, the work of Newt the night before to match a particularly stunning red outfit Hermann happened to be wearing.

“I’ve got a present for you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> consider this: drunk Fond hermann vs embarrassed smitten newt somewhere semi-formal
> 
> This is from the same 'verse as "opening is Just the start" and if I ever do anything else with that, will disappear from this collection ahahaha.

Newt doesn’t drink anymore and Hermann doesn’t drink often. When they’d first begun their relationship, tentative and sweet, Newt would have a glass of wine with dinner or something small, but he prefers it this way. He liked the control of knowing he never to worry about drinking too much if he never drank.

Of course, it wasn’t drinking too much that was the problem. It was drinking to forget or to not hurt and Newt still carried hurt in him, even despite his happiness with the man he loved, he still carried over a decade of hurt in him. He was working on that and would continue to work on that.

Hermann, though, was free to drink. He didn’t keep alcohol of any sort in their rooms, and rarely had more than one drink and never drank when it was just the two of them. Tonight, though, he’s rather tipsy. It’s not entirely his fault, as they’re at an event and, of all the damn people, Tendo Choi made an appearance. Tendo is a charmer, no doubt, and has a habit of buying Hermann shots. It’s a particular old habit and one that Newt finds very amusing.

Newt likes the way there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks as he waves at him across the room, and he likes even more that he’s shed his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. Newt had forgone the jacket in the first place, but his waistcoat has come undone in the course of the evening. He doubts he’ll ever fully feel comfortable at these events, PPDC fundraisers meant to do God knows what beyond raise money from wealthy donors who want to turn the PPDC in their favor.

He’s been waylaid by a young man who’s curious about his research (it’s become highly taboo to mention that decade of Newt’s life, but so many people will pry to try to discover information) but his eyes don’t truly leave Hermann where he’s still seated next to Tendo.

“Newton!” Hermann calls across the room and all eyes abruptly turn to Hermann, then over to Newt. “Come here, please.”

That’s probably the sign to collect him and take him home, Newt thinks, blushing. It’s not like him to get embarrassed, but he does hate the attention. Hermann knows this and maybe he will have to have a talk to him about alcohol consumption in the morning, after all. (Their first talk was met with understanding but Newt knows Hermann also felt guilty for not reading the signs, for not knowing how he’d mistreated drink for so long.)

When the many eyes of the room have looked away, Newt moves forward, making his way towards where Hermann sits. Hermann immediately wraps an arm around his waist, leaning his head against him.

“Did you want me here just to touch me?” Newt asks, and drops a kiss to the top of Hermann’s head. He thinks he possibly loves this man more every single time that he sees him.

“I was just talking about the wedding with Tendo,” Hermann says, and he hiccups. “He says he, uh- what was it you said?”

“I said that Alison and I eloped first, got the official romantic stuff out of the way before I worried about the big ceremony. But we kept it a big secret,” Tendo supplies. “I apologize for this, by the way. I didn’t realize he had an even lower tolerance than before.”

Tendo looks a bit sheepish, likely at the fact that he’s returning a drunk fiance to Newt, who is technically a recovering alcoholic. (Okay, this is not a technicality.)

“No, I’m sorry, New’on. I should have never left your side to come sit by this blasted man,” Hermann supplies. “Jus’ wanted to give you some space. But I do think eloping is a good idea. Can we elope tonight?”

Newt squeezes Hermann’s shoulder gently. “We already ran away together, that’s basically the same as eloping. It would ruin the novelty of it.”

Hermann looks up at him for a few moments like he’s processing, retracing the memories that have brought them here. “You’re right. We ran away together and then we were in love.”

“So let’s go forward with the wedding you’ve been meticulously planning for the last half year, hmm?” Newt reaches down to straight out the collar of Hermann’s shirt. He’s an adorable mess and Newt loves him best from this angle, especially because he’s certain he spies a few grey hairs peeking out of Hermann’s scalp.

“Right. Of course. Correct as always, Newton.”

Tendo’s brows shoot up at that statement. “You might want to get him home if he’s saying that you’re correct.”

The smile Newt gives Tendo at that is a bit too lopsided, but he helps Hermann out of his seat, looping his arm around his waist.

“Good night, Tendo. Next time you’re in town, we’ll go get dinner or something,” Newt says.

“Next time I’m in town is for the wedding, but I’ll let you know.”

They walk out together, Newt trying to ignore anyone who looks at them. It’s not that he minds, but he knows Hermann’s going to feel bad about this in the morning and he knows that people will talk. He doesn’t need any more talk about him. About them.

Thankfully they get a cab easily and Hermann’s gone quiet, holding his hand in the backseat.

“I’m sorry about the-” Hermann hiccups. “The tequila.”

“I’m sorry for what the tequila’s done to you too, Hermann. But it’ll be better in the morning.”

“There will be no drinks at the wedding.”

“No drinks at the wedding, of course. We’ve got a bit until we’re back home, why don’t you rest, baby?”

“I’m not that drunk, Newton.” Hermann levels a glare at him and Newt chuckles.

“Alright. Rest, babe.”

Hermann shifts slightly, resting his head on Newt’s shoulder. It’s going to be a pain to wake him when they arrive home but for now it’s peaceful and Newt can watch the lights of the city as they go by. Everything is good and he’s as desperately in love as he’s always been.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Concept: Hermann and Newt both think they're about to engage in some hate-sex but it turns out the other doesn't hate them after all and it gets all mushy.

“Hey, I know you don’t like me but can you chill with the buttons?” Newt asks, indignantly, as another button on his shirt has pinged across the floor in the desperate attempt to remove it from his body.

Hermann snorts and ducks back down to suck another mark onto Newt’s clavicle. There’s a fading bruise from when they did this about a week prior, eagerly against the chalkboard. “I never said I didn’t like you,” he murmurs against the abused skin. “Maybe stop projecting your issues on me, hmm?”

Now it’s Newt’s turn to make a sound of protest, only this is a desperate whine at the loss of some sort of contact against his skin. Hermann, bright man that he is, keys into that and resumes sucking , but then he’s kissing, soft and featherlight and oddly tender given that Newt’s certain the guy despises him- except he’s just said-

“You don’t hate me?” Newt asks, gently pushing Hermann off of him.

The look on Hermann’s face is very cross, as though he’s been given a great loss by not having anything to kiss in that moment. His sweater vest (hideous thing) has been tossed aside but otherwise he looks far too well put together for the situation. It should be a crime, honestly.

“No- is that a problem with you?” Hermann narrows his eyes then, and there’s some genuine concern at play in his expression.

“No, dude. Dude. I don’t hate you either.”

“Oh, that’s. Startling.” Hermann’s working his jaw in that way that should look annoying but is actually kinda sexy.

“I know, I’d assumed when we banged last week-”

“Please do not use words like that, Newton.”

“I’d assumed when we did that thing where you went down on me last week, it was because you were really pissed off and it shut me up. But you were doing it because you like me.”

Newt only realizes the full brunt of what he’s said then when it feels like all of the air has left the lab, like they’re swirling in a vacuum of awkward. They’ve both got their big, secret crushes out in the open and suddenly instead of hate banging they’re…two dudes into each other who are about to have sex. Fuck, that’s awesome.

“Well, then,” Hermann responds, turning around and starting to walk.

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I’m going to my room, if you’d care to join me, Newton, we can continue there, so long as you don’t use the word ‘bang’ in any variation again.”

“Done and done.” Newt nearly trips over his feet to rush after him.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “this is the opposite of what i told you to do.” “why the hell is there glitter everywhere?” 
> 
> Another from the sugar baby Hermann 'verse

“Why the hell is there glitter everywhere?” Newt calls from the bathroom. He’s just come home from work for the day and hadn’t even bothered to say hello which Hermann, frankly, finds rather rude. But this is Newt, and it’s a forgivable crime at the end of the day.

“I was…experimenting,” Hermann calls back from his study, where he’s been lounging.

“With glitter?” Newt asks, his voice something between skeptical and curious. He stops in the doorway of Hermann’s room, admiring him for a few moments. He’s dressed oddly but charmingly, in one of his very nice robes and a pair of Newt’s boxers.

“Body glitter,” Hermann responds, not looking up from where he’s reading. His glasses are low on his nose and he’s aware of how ridiculous he must look. “The first container exploded in the bathroom, the second is sitting on my vanity. I thought you could help me apply it.”

“You want me to put body glitter on you.”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

“No, I just don’t know where this came from.”

Newt moves forward and helps Hermann to his feet, giving him a very appreciative look as he stands. There’s glitter stuck to his ankles and feet that Newt’s not sure he knows about, but he finds it too charming to tell him this.

“Just a new look to try out, I suppose,” Hermann answers bashfully, he reaches for his cane before moving to his small vanity. Newt’s been very supportive in everything to do with his explorations and experiments in beauty and style, and Hermann doesn’t pretend that many of these ideas weren’t started for Newt’s benefit. Everything he’s given, though, has been done freely and eagerly and will continue to be so for the indefinite future. He seats himself at the vanity before he realizes the glasses are still on. Carefully he plucks those off of his face.

“What do you want me to do, babe?”

“This one’s a stick, so I want you to roll it over my body. Please do not get anything in the general vicinity of- oh, you know.”

“The best parts, I got it,” Newt jokes, picking up the product. “Gotta get that robe off, sugar.”

Hermann rolls his eyes at Newt as he shrugs the robe off of his shoulders, letting it pool on the ground. Newt generously glides the stick across Hermann’s skin, humming some song Hermann doesn’t know to himself as he does. He starts with his chest, then down to his stomach. Hermann has to fight the urge to laugh, and Newt definitely notices the reaction.

“You can’t hide being ticklish from me,” Newt remarks, spreading some of the glitter on his hands to rub it more directly along Hermann’s neck, up to his jaw and his face. It’s really just become an experience in touching and neither of them can say they mind.

When he’s content with his work, Newt moves behind Hermann to look at him in the mirror, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his neck. They both laugh when Newt makes a face at realizing the glitter is now on his mouth. Hermann stands yet again, this time so they can kiss properly, wrapped in each other’s arms. Newt wastes no opportunity to slide his hand down the back of Hermann’s boxers, cupping his ass.

“Darling, you have glitter on your hand,” Hermann mutters against his mouth. “This is the opposite of what I told you to do.”

“Guess we gotta go all in then.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “how did you get in here?”

It’s been a long day. Positively exhausting, and he’s knackered. It’s only seven and there’s nothing Hermann wants more than to climb into his bed and forget about all of the worries of work, of life. Nothing can bring him joy quite like the prospect of at least eight hours of uninterrupted sleep, but he’s hoping for more than that, because it’s what his aching body deserves after the ordeal known as his job has put him through the proverbial ringer.

Maybe, if he’s able to sit through it, he’ll even smoke one of the cigarettes he keeps stashed in his top drawer before sleep. That’ll put him in the most perfect mood to relax, and to not have to deal with screeching or viscera or his chalk being smashed to pieces. He’s mumbling to himself, cross from remembering the ordeal, when he pushes open the door to his room. Ah, he should have known.

“How did you get in here?” Hermann asks, striding forward to place his things in their proper trays on his bookshelf. Order in a homespace is essential when the lab looks like a war zone.

“I don’t tell my secrets,” Newt answers. He’s seated himself rather comfortably in Hermann’s desk chair, his dirty boots propped up on the desk.

“You stole my spare key from my lab desk,” Hermann says, answering his own question because, of course. “Need I remind you, Dr Geiszler, that these are my private quarters and I do expect some privacy during any hours in which I am not at work-”

“I brought you a gift,” Newt cuts in, holding out a plate to him. “They had your favorite lemon tarts for dinner and I noticed you weren’t there, figured you were trying to re-do some equations-” Newt’s expression is sheepish, apologetic in those moments. “But I didn’t want you to miss out.”

He sighs and sits down on the edge of his bed to toe off his shoes. “That is very kind of you, Newton. But it doesn’t make up for the two days’ worth of work your guts wiped away that I had to redo in less than three hours.”

“What if I told you I brought you two tarts instead of one?”

“Then I’d say you’re trying to bribe me into a good opinion that’s never happening. And that’s excessive.”

“Honestly, thank God, because I ate the other one already.” Newt’s grinning in that winning way when he hands the plate to Hermann.

Hermann eyes him as he picks up the fork and takes his first bite. Oh, it is heavenly. He doesn’t forgive Newt for what he’s done, but this is the nearest thing to forgiveness he can imagine.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Detention? Again?"
> 
> teacher AU

Hermann’s on his way out of work for the day when he stops dead in his tracks outside of a classroom. This is most definitely not Newt’s room, and is in fact the room where detention is held most every afternoon, but Newt is sat at the desk in the front, not even hiding the fact that he’s scrolling through his phone. Unable to help himself, Hermann steps into the room.

“Detention? Again?” he asks, eyeing up the unruly teens in the room, all of whom are talking to each other and most definitely not working on their homework.

“Mr Brown said that if I keep destroying lab equipment with disregard to the policy I can oversee detention for the next week.”

“Ah.”

“It’s not my fault all the coolest science causes destruction, dude!” Newt gestures, almost knocking his phone to the ground.

“Mood, Mr. Geiszler!” one of the teens exclaims from the back of the room. They shut up when Hermann turns towards them with a scowl.

“That’s Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann adds.

“Dr. Geiszler-Gottlieb,” Newt cuts in. “Legally, but he doesn’t like to brag about the other name.”

“Awww,” half the room says in unison, albeit slightly mockingly.

“I’m giving you all another week of detention if you don’t knock that off.”

“You can’t just do that. It’s against the Geneva convention, or whatever,” a student answers.

“You know, I’m sure Mrs. Franklin would have appreciated that knowledge when you failed her test last week,” Newt snaps.

“I’m going to get out of here,” Hermann says softly. “Before you start fighting the children. Don’t forget we have dinner plans tonight.”

“Thanks, Herms.”

Hermann leaves the room to a dozen teenagers laughing and shouting his nickname and wondering how quickly he can get a divorce.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "yeah, okay, but I'm cooler."

“Did you see the way the students came up to ask for my autograph?” Hermann asks, staring at the remaining stack of books after their talk. He’s wearing the same sort of awful grandpa clothes he wore in the Shatterdome, largely because they didn’t have time to buy anything before their whirlwind lecture tour.

Newt’s wearing his same white shirts and jeans because he thinks it makes him look like a hip and cool professor. It is true, though, that the students seemed a bit more keen on having Hermann sign the books than him and that was just a bit disappointing to him, if he had to admit it to himself. He was the rock star, Hermann was just the dude with the chalk stains on his jeans and, sure, it was probably shitty to say the person you’re sleeping with (in love with) is less cool than you, but it was the truth.

“Yeah, I saw, buddy. That was great. They really liked your math puns.” Maybe that’s what it was, kids these days didn’t get Newt’s humor. He’s decided on this as he packs the remaining books away in the provided boxes, so they can be sold at the campus bookstore. The book is, honestly, slapdash garbage compiled of notes they took over the past several of years that a publisher bought very, very quickly. And impulsively.

It was an excuse, Newt knows, for them to still be together, physically, without actually discussing if they were together, romantically. If they’d gotten regular jobs, they’d actually have to discuss this in detail and having Hermann admit to having a feeling was incredibly difficult. The man took three months to admit that he thought it was too cold in the lab, for God’s sake.

“I think they even found my part of the lecture more interesting than yours,” Hermann ventures. It’s not meant to be rude, not beyond the baseline rudeness that is Hermann, but it still stings a bit.

“For once.” Newt snorts.

“They thought I was interesting. Engaging, riveting.”

Newt smiles despite himself. Hermann is all of those things. “Yeah, okay, but I’m cooler.”

“Of course, of course.” Hermann steps closer to him, looking around the room as though someone would still be there, and presses a kiss to Newt’s lips. They’re both rock stars.


End file.
